Page 79 of The Last Slayer
I took a deep breath and fidgeted with the torn sleeve of my dirty dress. Ramiel tried to run his fingers through his blood-caked hair and cursed when they got tangled.
“The samael you stabbed—” Ramiel began, then paused. “He was your friend.”
“What?” I couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Who?”
“The one who helped you with Valerie.”
“Andersen?” I shook my head. “That can’t be right. He’s a security expert. Besides, he’s old.”
“Not everyone desires eternal youth,” Ramiel said.
“But he looked nothing like…” I trailed off. He’d looked just like Ramiel. Except for his eye color, the one thing supernaturals can’t change. Eyes the color of rivets. How many people had eyes like those?
“Nahemah’s specialty is illusions.”
If Andersen had been Nahemah’s servant, then the demon I’d faced for my test had most likely been one of Nahemah’s underlings as well.
You are marked.
It made sense. That slimy crap on me…Ramiel had burned it off in my dream. And how Andersen had scowled at me the next morning. I’d thought he just hadn’t liked me, but what if there had been more to it?
But why had Nahemah been working alone? Or had she? Andersen hadn’t handed me over to Semangelaf at TriMedica, even though Nahemah supposedly wanted the demigod’s body. Was the whole thing some elaborate ruse to get Leh’s heartstone? Of course, at that point no one had been sure that I was Leh’s daughter…
Except Ramiel. Always, it came back to Ramiel.
“Do you think Andersen or Nahemah poisoned Valerie?” I said.
“With venom from Semangelaf’s wyrm?” He considered the idea. “Perhaps.”
I let that sink in and began to feel a sort of helpless anger. Damn it, I had been so sure of myself.
I hate being wrong, but a woman’s gotta own up to her mistakes. “You were right to warn me against Nahemah. I should’ve listened,” I said finally. “Thank you for your help.” I cleared my throat. “I guess I should clean up.”
He nodded gravely.
He could’ve given me a reply. Like “It’s okay” or something. Maybe I should’ve just been satisfied he wasn’t gloating. “All right then. I’ll see you later.”
I spun around and walked into the castle. Ms. Dramatic Exit. Then I realized I had no idea where I was going. The place was so big I needed a map. Where was Toshi when I needed him?
A bas-relief slayer above me smashed a wyrm and sent bits of rock spraying. A film of stone dust settled over me, and it didn’t even apologize. But then it couldn’t talk, only act. When I coughed rather loudly, they finally stopped their battle and stared at me.
Seconds ticked by.
They turned in unison and went back to fighting.
Toshi flew up just in time to witness the interior decorations’ impertinence toward his honored guest. “I’m so sorry, milady. Those…things…they’re terribly rude. I don’t know why His Lordship tolerates them.”
“Well.” I looked up at the bas-reliefs, engaged in some epic struggle, and pursed my lips. “I suppose it’s educational.”
“Only to the ignorant who refuse to study our history from books, as all true scholars do. In any case,” he said, somewhat archly, “they’ll pay for it later when they’re turned into dust and reborn into something else. Possibly deformed slayers.”
“Deformed slayers?”
“After each major historical battle, the entire bas-relief is reset for another event. Else we’d have too many bodies.”
That made sense. It wasn’t like stone could decay.
Toshi beamed toothily at me. “Your medicinal bath is ready, milady! And I have moved
